


The Benefit of a Doubt

by BrandSpankingNew



Category: Glee
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Finn's Awkward Thought Process, Gen, Lack of Communication, Paddling, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 08:18:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18465079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrandSpankingNew/pseuds/BrandSpankingNew
Summary: An AU take on Cascade Waters' "Undefined."Burt is led to believe that Finn was the one who damaged the Buick and destroyed Carole's garden, and he is ticked. Without warning and without giving Finn a chance to explain himself, he spanks him. Finn thinks this sucks...and the worst part is that Burt didn't even give him the benefit of a doubt.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Undefined](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/472960) by Cascade Waters. 



_He was so tired after the series of meetings and flights that he might have missed it if… well, no, actually, there would have been no missing it. He wasn't sure which was worse —the damage to the back corner of his Buick, or the fact that Carol's little pathside herb garden looked like it'd gotten on the wrong side of a bulldozer._

_The façade of the house looked fine, and the front door was locked when he reached it, which lowered his blood pressure just a little. Not much, though._

_The house was quiet, maybe a little too quiet, given the two very… expressive teenagers who shared it with their respective parents. Carol was off teaching or mentoring or something at some girls' retreat in Pennsylvania, and spring break officially started tomorrow, so he wasn't entirely surprised that no one was around, but he could feel his blood pressure inching up again. Something had happened, and no one seemed overly concerned with taking responsibility for it._

_Sighing, Burt dropped his luggage and pulled out his cell phone, and then had a different thought. He put the cell back in his pocket and trudged to the kitchen, picking up the house phone. He dialed Kurt's number, and didn't bother to not roll his eyes as he waited twice through half of a verse of some whiny song about clubbing. Finally, Kurt picked up._

_"No, Finn, I haven't seen your wall charger."_

_Burt blinked in confusion, filed it away, and said, "Good to know." He was relieved not to hear any pain or distress in his kid's voice. Even small impacts could injure someone._

_There was a pause, and he could hear Blaine in the background talking about some part-time job, and then, in a careful tone, Kurt said, "Dad?" Blaine went silent, and Burt grinned to himself. It was fun to mess with the boys sometimes._

_"No, it's the tooth fairy. I was just calling to see if you'd borrowed my tutu again. Yes, Kurt, it's your dad. How's it going?"_

_"Y-you're home?"_

_Burt sat down in one of the kitchen chairs. "Yeeeeeees, son, I'm home. It's sort of where I go when I'm not working or playing politician. What are you guys up to tonight?"_

_"Oh. Uh. We're… we're just, you know, having a latte."_

_Personally, Burt kind of thought Kurt sounded like he'd already had a week's worth of lattes. He kind of figured that Kurt and Blaine could be… fooling around, and he really didn't know if he was supposed to be okay with that or not, but he had other things on his mind tonight. "Okay. I'm trusting you to make good choices. You know, about lattes. Say, I was wondering, you know anything about my passenger taillight, or Carol's plants?" He slipped it into the conversation casually, like he was asking whether Kurt had seen his black cap; he might not be the world's best dad, but he'd learned that teenagers tended to reveal more when they were off their guard. When Kurt didn't respond right away, Burt listened to the silence for about thirty seconds and then called his son's name._

_"Uh. Oh, sorry, Dad. I was just… uh… paying the tab. I don't know what to tell you; I didn't have anything to do with it. You might check with Finn."_

_"Yeah, I'll do that." Burt ended the call and hung up the handset, stewing quietly. After a minute, he got up and took his luggage up to his room. He was pulling out his shaving kit when he heard throbbing bass from a stereo, so he went to his window and looked down. He saw a vaguely familiar car pull away from his curb and his stepson trudge up the driveway. Finn's little Swift—the product of a recent trade- was nowhere in sight. By the time the boy had gotten into the house, Burt was back downstairs, his blood just this side of boiling._

_-From Cascade Waters'_ Undefined

* * *

 He met the kid just inside the door. "Living room. Now," he demanded with a snap of his fingers and a point down the hallway.

Finn looked a little taken aback, and more than slightly confused, but that wasn't exactly unusual for the kid. Burt herded him into the living room and pointed at the couch. "Sit," he said. Finn plopped onto the couch, clasping his hands between his knees. He looked a little nervous. Well, good. He'd really screwed up this time.

"What happened?" Burt asked, his voice low and stern. "Your mom's garden is a wreck. You know how hard she worked on that! Not to mention the money we spent on all those little starter-kit thingies! It looks like it got in a fight between a bulldozer and a tornado! I mean, how fast were you driving to cause that kind of damage?"

Finn's eyes were wide, and his hands were desperately wringing at each other. Burt could see Finn's eyes tracking him as he paced back and forth along the living room.

"What kind of damage did you do to your car? Did you total it? Did you really think your mom and I wouldn't notice the taillight on the Buick if you got your own car fixed? That looks pretty nasty, kid. With that crappy little tennis shoe of a car,  I'm surprised you didn't land yourself in the hospital!" He was truly yelling now. Burt felt his blood pressure jump again at the idea that Finn could have been hurt. "Dammit Finn!"

At his yell, he saw Finn push himself into the couch as though he was praying for it to swallow him whole. Finn opened his mouth and took a deep breath, but then an undefined look flashed across those brown eyes. Finn's chin dropped to his chest and he shut his mouth, looking defeated.

Well, at least the kid didn't outright lie to him, Burt thought grimly. 

* * *

 Finn wasn't generally a nervous guy. He usually tried to just let things roll off of his back, and usually that worked well for him. But right now...Geez, Burt was scary. Like, truly. He wasn't usually scared of Burt. In fact, he forgot, most of the time, that his step-dad could be a real hard-ass, 'cause he just looked like an every day kind of dad, but then sometimes, Burt could be really terrifying. Finn still remembered how awful that whole fight about the "faggy" lamp had been—he'd thought the man was going to clock him for sure. And Burt had nearly strangled Karofsky in the hallway when he'd been bugging Kurt during their dance lesson. He still remembered Karofsky trying to grin past the big, hairy forearm shoved against his throat, and failing. That had been scary as hell. And so was this.

He watched the man pacing back and forth across the floor, getting louder and louder. And Finn wanted to defend himself—he wasn't the one who had done all that damage to the Buick! He hadn't even been here when it happened. He'd been hanging out with Puck and playing Call of Duty, and totally whooping Puck's ass, if he said so himself. He wanted to explain, because dude, it wasn't fair. And he would have tried to fix the garden and stuff but he didn't have enough money to do that AND get the spray paint removed from his car, and if Burt didn't like to hear Finn say that f-word, he wasn't going to want him to drive a car that had it sprayed all over it. Plus, honestly, Finn didn't want to drive it like that. Puck had jokingly called it the "faggot-mobile," and then Finn had punched him in the arm to, like, defend his brother's honor. Or something.

"Dammit, Finn!" The man roared at him and he suddenly realized his mind had wandered. He jerked back into the corner of the couch and opened his mouth to defend himself. Then a thought hit him. He was Kurt's big brother now, right? 'Cause he  _was_ bigger than Kurt, by like half a foot. Which meant that he was supposed to protect him. That meant he was also supposed to cover for him, didn't it? Especially since Kurt had begged him not to say anything to Burt or his mom about it. So he shut his mouth and looked down at his knees, hoping that Burt would just stop asking him questions. Especially since he didn't really look like he was all that interested in listening to the answers. And Finn had kind of promised not to say anything anyway.

Burt turned without a word and left the room. Finn continued to stare down at his shoes. He should probably tell his mom he needed new ones, he noted. The leather was starting to separate from the sole by his toes.

The man would have listened to Kurt, he knew. Like, he knew the guy cared about him, no doubt, but Finn never forgot that he wasn't  _really_  Burt's kid. And it kind of sucked, because the guy was a good step-dad and all, but he was the best dad-dad in the world, according to Kurt. And Finn could see it.

He heard Burt's footsteps, but didn't look up. There was a soft plop as the man dropped something on the couch and sat down right next to Finn. Finally, Finn dared to look over at his step-dad. The man looked pissed. And determined. Determinedly pissed? He felt Burt's arm go around his back and barely had time to be confused about it, 'cause the guy didn't seem to be in a hugging mood. Then Burt was pulling on him, hard. "Hey!" he yelped as he toppled against the man's legs, and if his hands hadn't hit the carpet first, he would have gotten rug burn on his forehead. Brittany would have totally thought he was a unicorn.

He struggled to right himself, not really getting what Burt was doing. But Burt's hands were planted solidly on his back, and he couldn't get a good angle to push himself up. His heart started to pound in his chest then. "Dude, I..." he started to say.

_SMACK_!

Burt's hand came down hard on his butt, and he froze. No way. No freaking way!

_SMACK_!

_Ouch!_

The third smack made him realize that even though this couldn't be, shouldn't be happening, it totally was. And this position kind of made sense. Because holy crap, the guy was freaking spanking him. Like a five-year-old or something. And he hadn't been spanked since he was  _actually_  a five-year-old.

_SMACK!_ Finn felt his face, ears, and even the back of his neck turn red with the realization. He struggled again, trying to pull himself up. The next _SMACK!_ was even harder and nearly knocked the breath out of him. "Hold still," Burt ordered. _SMACK!_

"Ow!" he yelped involuntarily. His butt really hurt, and Burt had only hit him like half a dozen times. Mechanic's hands were so freaking tough! He stopped trying to get up though, because he didn't want to make Burt any angrier at him than he already was. Instead he dug his fingers into the carpet and shut his eyes against the tears that threatened as Burt continued spanking him hard and fast.

It just wasn't fair! There was no way he'd spank Kurt like this; it was pretty obvious that Burt would never lay a finger on the guy. And even worse, he was getting spanked ( _like a five-year-old_ , his brain added helpfully as if this situation didn't suck enough) for something that he didn't even do! And it freaking hurt a lot more than Finn thought it should considering he was seventeen and basically an adult!

Except right now, he didn't feel like an adult. Because when you're upended over somebody's knee like a five-year-old, it kind of makes you feel like a five-year-old. He felt a few tears escape despite himself.

Then Burt stopped, and Finn took a few gasping breaths. He'd lost track of how many times Burt had hit him, but his butt was on fire and he was glad that this was over, before he lost all of his dignity. Then there was a small tap on his backside that made the pain flare, and then a loud _WHACK_!

He let out a yell that he couldn't have stopped if he'd tried. "NO!" he begged. Holy grilled cheesus that was pretty much the worst thing he'd ever felt. What had he hit him with?

He twisted back and caught a glimpse of the ping-pong paddle in Burt's hand, and how the hell could it hurt that much? Pure panic lit in his chest at the thought of being hit with it again, and he struggled, needing to get up. But Burt was freaking strong, and he somehow managed to hold him down despite Finn's best effort. Then Burt brought that paddle down again, hard, and Finn let out another yell and collapsed against his step-father's legs. He was never gonna sit down ever again. Ever. Fire roared across his backside and the tops of his thighs.

"Finn, stop fighting me or this is gonna last longer," Burt warned. A third swat from the paddle made Finn let out a hard, gasping sob.

"P-Please! Stop it!" he begged. He held himself as still as he could though, so that Burt would know that he wasn't trying to fight him. Even though he was trying, though, he could feel his body shaking a little, like when he accidentally got a triple espresso at Starbucks that one time. The paddle came down again and Finn let out another sob. He knew tears were running down his cheeks, and he couldn't do anything to stop it.

_WHACK! WHACK!_ Those two swats were hard and fast, and then he heard a soft plop as Burt dropped that stupid paddle on the couch and took his hand off Finn's back. Finn jumped up despite the blazing pain in his butt, because if for some reason Burt changed his mind about being done with spanking him, he needed to be far away. He bolted up the stairs and into his room.

He fell face-down onto his bed and grabbed his butt in both hands. Even through his jeans, he could feel that his skin was hot.

Finn lay there still and concentrated on breathing and trying to rub the pain from his butt. Slowly, his breath got back under control. He sniffed hard and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his shirt. His mom always told him not to do that, he remembered belatedly. Carefully, he pushed himself off the bed and limped stiffly into the bathroom for a Kleenex.

His reflection made him wince. His eyes were red, and he had a slime trail under his nose. He blew his nose, which improved things a little. After a moment, he locked the door and undid his jeans, wondering how much damage Burt had done with that stupid paddle. The skin on his butt was bright red, with a spot that was nearly purple where his butt became his thigh. That was gonna bruise. He felt himself blushing again and he quickly refastened his jeans. First chance he got, he was throwing away that damn ping-pong set, because he'd never be able to play it again anyway and nobody should keep a weapon like that in their house.

Back in his room, he stiffly changed into his pajama bottoms and a tee shirt and tossed his clothes haphazardly at the hamper in the corner. He missed, but the effort it would have taken to walk to the hamper seemed like way too much, and so he just left it and carefully settled himself on his stomach on top of his blanket. His butt protested every single move he made with a bright flare of pain.

It hit him again. Burt had spanked him. Like a little kid. He bit his lip.

This whole thing was so, so not fair! He hadn't even done anything, except cover for Kurt, but it wasn't like Burt knew he was covering for him, so that didn't count. And Burt hadn't even given him a chance to explain...even if he hadn't planned on explaining, he should have at least gotten the chance. He knew he wasn't a fast thinker, but he could have thought of something if he'd had a little time.

Finn shut his eyes and dropped his head down on his crossed arms. This sucked so bad. Not just that Burt apparently thought he was a little kid or something. Not just that his butt seriously hurt, like, a  _lot_. And not even that nobody bothered to listen to his side of things, even though that totally wasn't fair. But it really hurt that Burt was so ready to think the worst of him, when he would have given Kurt the benefit of a doubt. His step-brother didn't know how freaking lucky he was.

He blinked, and felt tears stinging his eyes. He squeezed them shut so tightly that he could see stars. This was stupid. He was being a baby.

But telling himself that did nothing to stop the tears from coming. So finally Finn buried his head in his pillow and let himself cry silent tears. This day had sucked, big time.


	2. Chapter 2

Finn had his headphones on, like Burt had suggested. Thing was, there was a vent in his room that apparently connected to the living room or something because he could hear something. And it wasn't just Burt yelling.

After a second, he hit the pause on his iPod.

"You led me to believe that it was Finn, Kurt!" Burt's voice was harsh. "Do you think that was fair?" Whack!

He couldn't stop the flinch. That sounded like...

Kurt let out a yell that confirmed it. Holy crap, Burt was totally paddling Kurt!

Finn wasn't exactly sure how he felt about that. Like, he wasn't a complete jerk and he didn't want his brother to be in pain or anything. And Kurt was obviously in pain. He was practically howling down there. Plus, he'd been in Kurt's place not that long ago and he knew how brutal it was. Another loud whack made him flinch again.

But he'd just heard Burt confirm that Kurt was to blame for this whole mess. Not just the part with the car, which was actually more Blaine's fault, since he'd been driving. But Kurt had been directly to blame for the fact that Burt had paddled him. Which was completely unfair.

He felt like a real creeper listening to all this though, so he hit play again and turned the volume up. As R.E.M. echoed through his head, he couldn't help thinking.

He had been sure that Burt wouldn't spank Kurt. It was part of the reason it had sucked so bad when the guy did it to him-he had  _known_  that Kurt wouldn't get the same treatment. So this was, well, weird.

A small part of him was kind of pleased by it though. That sounded weird even in his own head, but it was true. Kurt had seriously just thrown him under the bus by not explaining to his Dad what was up, and Finn had paid the price. He was still kind of stiff and that had happened a couple days ago. Not in any serious pain anymore, just not completely unaware of his butt. And nobody should be aware of their butt on a regular basis. So he'd kind of resented Kurt (and by extension, Blaine) for being so ready to let him take the rap for all this crap. Heh, that rhymed.

Yeah, but he'd also decided that he was going to protect his brother, he reminded himself. Like, he  _could_ have spoken up. But he hadn't. It still would have been better if Kurt had just told his dad in the first place. At least then they both wouldn't be hurting.

Cautiously, he paused his iPod again. It was quiet now, and he was glad for it. No matter how pissed he was at Kurt, he knew how much that freaking paddle  _hurt_ (and why hadn't he hid the stupid thing yet? He'd meant to, but he'd been busy with the garden and trying to avoid Burt) and he wouldn't have wished it in an enemy. Well, maybe a really sucky enemy. Like Jesse St. James could use a serious beat-down. But he wouldn't wish it on Kurt, anyway. He was basically just glad that Burt had treated them the same.

That was it. Burt had treated them the same, and that was why he was just a tiny part happy that Kurt had gotten his ass whooped too. Like, he felt sorry for Kurt, no doubt about it. But Burt hadn't just yelled at him, or whatever-Kurt hadn't gotten off easy. And Finn didn't feel so much like Cinderella anymore. Not a chick, though, like a guy Cinderella. Like he wasn't just the unwanted step-kid. 'Cause Burt had treated then the same. Even if that  _same_ had totally sucked. At least it had sucked fairly.

He heard footsteps heavy on the stairs. Burt, then, 'cause Kurt was light on his feet. "C'mon kid, bedtime," he heard Burt say quietly, and Kurt mumbled something Finn couldn't hear in reply.

Finn pressed play again. He'd check on Kurt tomorrow. If Kurt was in anywhere near as bad of shape as Finn had been, he wouldn't want company tonight.

* * *

The next morning, Finn was up late. He was grateful that after the full story came out, he'd been allowed to resume his usual vacation schedule of sleeping late and eating cereal straight from the box. Burt was at the shop, and Finn was grateful. Things were still pretty awkward between them; it was kind of hard to know how to act around a dude that had just paddled him for no freaking reason. He'd apologized, but still. It wasn't like anyone told you what you were supposed to do in that situation. Even Google didn't have an answer for that one. He had checked. It was disturbing and not helpful at all.

He took a swig from the milk carton. His eyes crossed the windows and he choked, spewing milk from his nose.

Hastily he wiped his face with the hem of his tee shirt and dropped the milk onto the counter. What the heck was Kurt doing outside? And sweating. Dude, was that a smudge of dirt on his forehead? That was just wrong.

He went to the door and opened it. "Kurt?" he called.

Kurt looked up from his awkward position kneeling on the ground. "Hey," he said softly. He dropped his head back down and concentrated on re-planting the pitiful looking plant he held in his gloved hand.

"What are you doing?" Finn asked. He took a step outside and let the door bang shut behind him. It was pretty cold, he thought, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What does it look like, Finn? I'm planting." He sounded irritated, but that wasn't unusual-Kurt often was irritated with him. At least when he asked obvious questions.

"No, I know that," Finn said. "But, uh...why?"

Kurt let out a sigh. He dropped the plant into the hole he'd dug, then brushed the dirt off his hands before very slowly and carefully got to his feet. Finn winced just watching him. Yeah, Burt had really let him have it.

"Dude, it's cold out here. You should come inside and warm up a little or something," Finn suggested. He stared at the ground, poking his toe repeatedly against the wood under his feet.

Kurt looked at the damaged row of plants, only half-fixed, then looked at Finn shivering in bare feet on the front porch. "I don't know. I don't want Dad to get even more mad at me."

"He doesn't want you to freeze to death. Just take twenty to warm up," Finn wheedled.

Kurt looked like he was considering it, so Finn dropped the clincher. "Dude, he let me come inside and warm up. And I'll make cocoa."

That got the tiniest little smile out of his brother. "Okay," he said. "But don't call me dude."

* * *

Finn heated the milk in the microwave, then stirred the chocolate powder inside it. He grabbed the aerosol canister of whipped cream from the fridge and added a giant dollop on the top of each cup, then slid one down the counter to where Kurt was standing awkwardly. Kurt wrapped his fingers around the hot mug. "Thanks," he said in a voice just above a whisper.

"Yeah," Finn replied. He leaned against another part of the counter. He  _could_ sit now, if he wanted to, but he didn't want to make Kurt feel any more awkward than he already did. And the red tinge of his ears and cheeks said he was feeling way awkward right now. Finn took a giant sip from his mug to cover the silence and nearly choked on the whipped cream. He coughed a few times and wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

"That's so gross," Kurt complained.

"Sorry. Forgot," he said, wiping his sleeve against his jeans. There was another long silence between them.

Finn took a deep breath. He had to ask him. Otherwise this was going to bug him until he was old and gray.

"Hey, um...Kurt?"

"Yes, Finn?" Kurt took a much daintier sip from his own cup. How did he manage not to get whipped cream all over his nose? It was like magic.

"Uh...how come you didn't tell your dad that it was you?" The sentence came out in a rush. Finn dropped his eyes to his mug, not wanting to look at his brother.

He heard Kurt sigh. "I really messed that up, didn't I?" the smaller boy said wryly.

Finn peered at him. Kurt was staring down into the half-melted cream on top of his cocoa.

"Well, yeah, kind of," Finn said. He put down his mug and scratched lazily at his elbow. "Your dad was super ticked off at me. Like, way,  _way_ ticked off." He picked up the mug again and slurped the rest of the whipped cream off the top.

"I know," Kurt said. His eyes were still staring downward.

"That really sucked, dude. Your dad can be pretty scary sometimes."

"I know," Kurt repeated. "He's usually not, but when he thinks that I could have been hurt...the Papa Bear comes out. It's not pretty."

"Yeah, I kind of figured that out," Finn said. Even though he wasn't really sore any more, he instinctually rubbed his backside. Kurt's eyes went wide and flicked up to Finn's face. Finn felt himself blushing. Crap! The dude hadn't known...crap, crap, crap!

"Did he really…" Kurt's voice trailed off into nothing.

"Uh," Finn mumbled awkwardly. He stared back down at his cup.

"Finn, I'm so sorry," Kurt said. "Gaga, I didn't think...I wouldn't have…I don't even remember the last time he reacted like that. I figured he might yell at you a little. Not... _overreact_...like that."

He sounded sincere. And sorry. And kind of miserable.

"I figured that I'm the big brother," Finn explained awkwardly, still avoiding Kurt's eyes. "So, like, it's my job to protect you."

"Maybe sometimes," Kurt said. "Like when the jocks are trying to throw me in the dumpster. But not...I mean, this whole thing could have been avoided. And that's my fault." He took a deep breath. "I'm really sorry. I'd like to make it up to you somehow."

"I mean, your dad whacked you too," Finn said. He saw Kurt freeze for a moment, then slump with a little sigh. Whoops. Was that supposed to be a secret? "So we're probably even there, right? I dunno what else you could even do." He slugged back the rest of the cocoa in one long swallow. "Burt talked to me about it. He said he was gonna, like, at least make sure he listened next time. Not judge me right away. So that's good."

The misery was still plain on Kurt's face though. Finn felt kind of bad about that. Like, the guy was already in pain. And sweating, which Finn knew was  _not_ something that Kurt ever did on purpose. That was punishment enough in Finn's eyes.

"Just...don't throw me under the bus like that again. 'Cause getting hit by a bus really freakin' hurts. Ok?" Finn said.

"I promise." Kurt took another sip from his mug. "Never again."

"Ok. Good. Uh...then that's settled." He reached over to give Kurt a friendly thump on the back, only to find himself being squeezed around the middle like a tube of toothpaste. He froze for just a second, then clapped him on the back anyway. Kurt let him go.

"You're a good brother, Finn," he said. "Thanks."

"Yeah, man. Don't mention it," Finn said.

Kurt drained the last of his drink and rinsed out the mug before loading it in the dishwasher. He rinsed and put Finn's in too.

"I'd better get back to work if I want to be ungrounded by the time school starts up again," Kurt said, turning back to the door.

"You uh...you  _won't_ mention it, right?" Finn asked. "At school, I mean? Like, this is something I never want Rachel to hear about." Or Puck. Or anyone, really. Like, he was still embarrassed about Kurt knowing.

"Gaga forbid," Kurt said without a pause. "No. We are never discussing this week again. Ever. As far as I'm concerned, this never happened."

"Okay, great. Just wanted to make sure."

"Trust me, Finn. Not a word. Not even to Blaine."

Kurt was almost all the way out the door when Finn stopped him.

"You want me to make supper? Like, an apology to the parents?"

Kurt turned around so fast that Finn stepped back. His face was intense.

"Do. Not. Touch. The kitchen," Kurt said.

"But I-"

"Finn, do you  _know_  how to cook?" Kurt asked.

"Uh...how hard can it be? Puck can do it," Finn said. He thought that was a pretty logical answer, but Kurt looked less than impressed.

"No. That's not how it works. And we are not going to get in trouble for burning the house down!"

"I'm not gonna burn it down. Even I can read a recipe," Finn tried again.

"No. No, no, no. Finn, please. For the love of Jacobs, do not try to cook anything. If you want revenge on me, that is not the way to go about it." Kurt looked slightly desperate.

Finn sighed. "Fine. I won't make supper. But just remember, tonight, when Mom and Burt sit us down to take another chunk from us both, that I had a good idea and you just shot it down."

"I'll remember," Kurt said. "I'm serious. Don't even go near the stove."

"Jeez. Calm down, man." Finn put his hands up, and Kurt seemed to take that as agreement. He turned and left the house, going back out into the cold to deal with the tattered remains of Carol's garden.

Finn glanced over at the stove again. Kurt was overreacting. How hard could it possibly be?

He'd said he wouldn't make supper. But he could totally make dessert.


End file.
